


Dry Spell

by orchidbreezefc



Category: Marvel 616, New X-Men: Academy X, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Cessily Kincaid - Freeform, M/M, Megan Gwynn - Freeform, Noriko Ashida - Freeform, Santo Vaccarro - Freeform, Victor Borkowski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: Julian Keller has wronged the Stepford Cuckoos, and they will have their revenge--which means he can kiss his greatest secrets goodbye. Can an impulsive bet recover his dignity? ...Let's not count on it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some more TAZ stuff, but then I found this story already pretty fleshed-out, so uh, you know. God laughs at writer's plans, and all that.
> 
> Thanks to some dear friends for more editing help than I usually ask for--including some fashion advice!! I'm not sure how many of you will even touch NSFW fic but I appreciate it loads.
> 
> I've also altered my writing style a bit by cutting out all the unnecessary words I possibly can. Let me know how you like it--I personally think it's a big improvement!

The Cuckoos are the worst people Mutant God could possibly have picked to be able to know everything about everyone. They are vindictive and cruel, they are open with information that should be classified, and worst of all, their fashion sense is impeccable--which is, of course, the part that got you into this mess.

Or, you suppose, it was your fault, but what you did really didn't warrant this type of comeuppance. All you did was set up a motion-activated recording that shouted your name whenever somebody passed. It was a joke from a podcast that you thought would be a fun prank--it wasn't even targeted at the Cuckoos in the first place!

The thing about that, though, is that apparently the Cuckoos are not equipped for surprise shouting. Since they're telepathic, nobody ever gets the drop on them before having their grey matter filtered into their kidneys. You getting around that and giving them a good scare would be a badge of honor and probably cause for a good hearty laugh, had Celeste not at the time been carrying an incredibly expensive drink and wearing a pristine white pantsuit--Versace, spring/summer collection, 2015. You hadn't wanted to know any of those details about the outfit, but she had been very determined you knew all of them by the time she was done with you. 

"We demand reparations," Irma had hissed, which was when you began to get really worried. But when the Cuckoos called a handful of your (remaining) classmates together for a meeting, you knew you had to go. Whatever they were planning, they would make it so much worse for you if you bailed, and at least if you were there you could attempt damage control.

That's how you ended up sitting here like a bad kid at a parent-teacher conference, surrounded by friends who are about to hear the news of your misbehavior from three angry telepaths. Noriko, Josh, Santo, Megan, Cessily, and Victor laze around you in vague anticipation, but you are tense like a violin string.

The Cuckoos arrive precisely fifteen minutes late, a Northstarbucks cup in each of their hands. It's probably just to piss you off. Celeste sets down her drink so she can gesture dramatically as she expresses the sheer heinousness of your crime to the others. You should feel--or at least look--guilty, but it goes pretty long so you kind of zone out. Noriko's dubious expression tells you you're not the only one hoping they get on with it.

But then they do. Careful what you fucking wish for. "By way of repayment," Phoebe says, steepling her fingers maliciously, "you all get to learn Keller's deepest, darkest secret."

"Well, one of them," Irma adds, shuddering. "God knows he has enough you don't want to hear."

You don't like the sound of that. And based on the look of sheer delight on Phoebe's face, you think you know what secret they chose. "Now, hold on," you intervene desperately. "I'm sorry, all right, can't I just--"

"Pay me back?" Celeste asks witheringly. "You couldn't afford it, I assure you. That's why we worked out this tidy solution."

"But--"

Celeste holds her hand up like a judge who has already decided your sentence and is cutting off your last pathetic pleas. "Phoebe, would you do the honors?"

"Absolutely." Phoebe turns to survey the others and savor the suspense. "Keller's a virgin," she announces with wicked relish. She turns to depart, like an action star walking away from the explosion of the bomb she just dropped, but Celeste gestures her to wait. She leans over the table.

"And he's had a crush on Josh for years."

This you had not anticipated; all you can do is gape in horror. Celeste smiles, tight and mirthless. "Now we're even."

She flounces off with Phoebe and Irma in an even more potent cloud of smugness than usual, and dear God, surely you misheard or are dreaming because you know for a fact that she didn't just _say_ that. You are knocked straight out of your body in horrified shock so that when you look over to him in apprehension, you see Josh's disbelieving, nefarious glee from the fucking ethereal plane.

This cannot be happening.

Santo, of course, breaks the silence. "They're just fucking with us, right? Jules?"

You open your mouth, but before you can compose a statement, Victor laughs. "No, he's red as a beet. Holy shit, it's true!"

Gauntlets smack together in Noriko's joyous applause. "Oh my God, Keller, I fucking _knew_ you hid your feelings with that overaggressive bullshit!"

"Fuck off into _space_ , Ashida!" you yell. This only seems to serve as confirmation for the others. Everyone hoots, hollers, and looks positively elated, except Cessily, who looks sympathetic and whose life you will therefore spare.

"Josh we could have figured out, but a virgin? Really? You couldn't find _anybody_ in twenty years?" Megan says sardonically. "What were you, saving yourself?"

"Come on, guys, there's no shame in not having sex," Cessily points out, a little too weakly for your liking.

"I mean, there's no shame in it if you're not trying or holding off, but if you just can't get any..." Josh says, trailing off significantly.

"Exactly how am I supposed to 'get any' with these fuckin' things?" you demand, waving your gauntlets. This seems to give everyone pause, like you have a point.

Then it backfires. "So he doesn't jerk off either, I bet," Victor muses.

"No wonder he's such a mess," Megan agrees.

"I'm RIGHT HERE," you shout.

"So let's review: he's a virgin, he doesnt jerk off, _and_ he has a crush on me? I wish I'd known earlier," crows Josh, putting his hands behind his head and allowing a big self-satisfied grin to spread across his face. "I could make him come in his pants whenever I want without even touching him. The power is incredible."

"That's such a fucking lie, Foley, I can take whatever you dish out!" You get to your feet and slam your gauntlets down on the table in a loud thump that makes the wood creak. "You think you're such hot shit!"

"Evidently you agree," says Josh, waggling his eyebrows.

"Fuck you!"

"That's the goal, right?"

Santo restrains you from climbing over and clocking him.

"Do you really think you could, Josh?" Victor asks when you stop struggling, a scaly hand on your shoulder. You shrug him off angrily. Traitor. "No powers, no touching, nothing?"

"Easy," Josh replies. You swear to God you're going to wipe that fucking smirk off his face one way or another.

"No way," Santo says. "Josh isn't that hot. Jules could take it. Right, Cess?"

Cessily looks at you. Her face is uncertain, like she's not confident in you at all, and that is absolutely it.

"You know what, Foley? You want to make it a fucking bet?" you yell.

"What, you want to pay me to make you come in your pants?" Josh says disdainfully.

"I want to take your money and prove I can handle anything you throw at me!"

"I'll get in on that action," Noriko says immediately. "Twenty dollars Josh wins."

"Me too," says Megan. "Thirty."

"I got eight dollars on my dude Julian!" roars Santo. 

"Eight dollars is all you can risk?!" you demand.

"Ten?"

"Then it's settled," Josh says, somehow looking even more self-satisfied. "We draft some ground rules, put the two of us alone in a room together, and I drive you crazy. You free tomorrow? It shouldn't take long."

"I hate you so much," you grind out.

"Guys, wait, does a bet even count as consensual?" Cessily worries.

"Sure," Josh says easily. "Hell, I'll be generous and say I'm not even allowed to touch his dick. He volunteered for everything else, right?"

"I don't see how it would be a fucking bet at all if you were allowed to do that, but sure, let's call it generosity," you mutter.

"What about you, Josh?" Cessily asks. "What if something happens?"

"I'm up to have someone's virginity thrown at me. I mean, that's the plan, right?"

"I swear to God after tomorrow I'm fucking the next girl I meet," you seethe. "This fucking dry spell is over."

"One way or another," Josh agrees, grinning.

If you ruined his face, the others might accuse you of cheating.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh, better done than perfect, right? Yeah. Sorry for the wait, only I'm not very sorry because I've been having a blast with my other stuff. Only I am a little sorry because I have had most of this completely done for ages. So.
> 
> Warning for an allusion to Xavier's, uh, 'methods' of child care. Also, as I'm sure you can imagine, much NSFW. Mostly in the form of dirty talk, but hey, who knows.

The next day when you get to the school, you're more frazzled and on edge than you really ought to be for something like this. You barely got any sleep contemplating how fucking idiotic you were for suggesting this, how fucking pathetic you are for not being able to shake a crush on that asshole after all this time, and of course how fucking humiliated you will be by the end of this.

The smart thing would have been to get off last night, of course, but if you had a good system for that, you might not be in this mess. You'd have to use your gauntlets, and getting metal things with moving parts too close to you, let alone somewhere that sensitive, has spooked you since you had to watch that 'Shake Hands with Danger' video in shop class. So that method would put you at risk of going to the fucking hospital, and worse, everyone thinking you did it to get out of the bet. You could try wrapping your gauntlets or using something else, but you'd feel too ridiculous to properly get in the mood. One thing's for damn sure, you wouldn't use those godawful realistic gauntlets if someone fucking paid you.

And then you were just left to think about Josh. The truth is, you've had a thing for him since the day he arrived at Xavier's five years ago, all cocky grins and windswept hair. You've hated him most of the time since, of course, but there's always been a part of you holding a torch for the boy who hoisted your arm over his shoulder and pulled you away from a certain, fiery death. It frustrates you to no end that you can't just hate him and be done with it, and frustration looks like it'll be the theme today.

Josh is waiting for you when you arrive. He's still wearing that smirk he was when you left him, so that you wonder if the old wives' tales came true and his face got stuck like that. Everyone else is there too for some godawful reason, something about everyone with a monetary stake having a say in the rules.

You walk around campus in a group and hash it out; you insist on a time limit, and after some back-and-forth, the compromise is forty-five minutes. That's actually a bit longer than you would prefer, but you don't want to admit you could handle any less. During those forty-five minutes, you, Julian, are to stay seated ("Or in a seat anyway, if you get horizontal," Noriko adds with disgust). Outside your gauntlets, there is to be no use of powers by any party. Josh is not allowed to use tongue, kiss you on the mouth, or touch your dick with any body part (through clothing or otherwise). Those last three are his idea, like he's giving himself a challenge. That smug motherfucker.

By the time you're finished with negotiations, you've reached the location you picked out: Jono Starsmore's office. You almost feel bad, picking some poor sap's office to (hopefully not) get all sticky. But he's visiting some weirdo family member for the weekend and like hell were you going to pay for some seedy hotel for this, or go to Josh's or your place. It's a little weird coming back to the school for something like this, but at least it's neutral ground.

Josh gestures you into the room with a slight bow, which is good you suppose, because that puts it fresh in your mind that he's a patronizing asshole who's perfectly easy to despise. You are allowed a few moments to inspect the office with both a look-over and telekinesis. The others made it perfectly clear they wanted to be nowhere near the proceedings, but you don't one hundred per cent trust they wouldn't bug the room or something. A horrible concept maybe, but yesterday they passed the horrible person test with flying colors. You weren't even testing for that.

Once you're done looking under chairs and secretly psyching yourself up, Josh waves everyone off, sets his phone timer, and locks the door. Feeling his eyes on you, you inhale and take your seat on the shitty couch. Forty-five minutes. You can do this.

Josh smiles at you predatorily. He has his hands behind his back, and he looks like the face of a torturer. You imagine him in a white coat, pulling on latex gloves.

"So, Julian," he begins, and you've never heard him say your name quite like _that_ but like hell will you give him the satisfaction of letting loose the shudder threatening to go down your spine. "You like me, huh? Like, _like_ like. That's--" He mulls his words over. "That's kind of cute. I like it."

You stay stubbornly silent, even though 'cute' feels like a jab. You can't trust anything he says past this point. Josh is a master of talking people into bed, and damned if you'll be one of them here.

"I had some idea you liked me," he says confidentially. "Biokinesis, you know. I mean, there's a lot of excuses you can make; there's some people that just can't watch anybody eat a popsicle. But your dick getting involved every time you look at me too long, well. Benefit of the doubt only goes so far."

"You didn't know shit, you fucking liar," you spit. Silence may not be the best tactic here, actually. Maybe if you can keep him talking, he'll have less time to do--whatever godawful thing he must have planned. Sexy waterboarding or something.

"Didn't I?" Josh hums. He pins you with eyes giving off an incredible intensity despite being blank. You grit your teeth. "You think it'd be difficult for me to suss out everything you want, Julian?"

"What are you, a telepath now?"

A frown flickers over Josh's face, but it smooths right over. Unfortunately he seems to realize that your usual bickering would not be a good use of time. Instead he walks forward and leans over you, planting his hands at either side of your lap. He's closer to you now than he's been in years, and you hate that you notice that. You've got plenty of time to go, and you didn't want to be shaken so easily. But this is the first time the two of you have talked so much in ages, and now here he is, coming onto you like he has a genuine desire to get into your pants. It's maddening.

Josh sees God-knows-what in your face, and smirks. He tries to tilt up your chin to look into his eyes, but you refuse. Unfazed, he continues, "I bet I could just sit here and spend the next forty-some minutes telling you every fantasy you've ever had about me."

"You are so full of shit."

"Really?" Josh tilts his head, somewhere between intentionally irritating and endearing. "You don't want me to tell you how I could fuck you, Julian?" He leans in close, and oh God, it's starting. You brace yourself for the beginning of what will surely be the worst forty-two minutes of your life, or at least the most humiliating. He ghosts the tip of his nose over your cheek to brush it against the side of your own nose. His lips part deliberately and you can feel his breath on your face--did he brush his fucking teeth for this? He smells like peppermint. "You don't want to hear about the love I'd make to you?"

"No, I don't." You are a telekinetic with the most control over your powers of any mutant around that wasn't traumatized into it by Xavier himself. Keeping your voice steady should be a cakewalk.

Evidently not. "You're the worst liar I've ever met, Julian Keller," Josh laughs, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand and making you take an involuntary breath. "I like that about you."

"And you say I'm the bad liar? We both know there's not a damn thing you like about me."

Josh pulls back and tilts his head at you, eyebrows drawing together in an expression you can't place. But after a moment he shrugs it off. "We're getting off topic."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Let's see." Josh pretends to consider. "Oh, right. We were talking about all the shit you're _dying_ to have me do to you." Your back stiffens, and nothing else, you swear to God.

"We can do it any way you want," he murmurs, his voice a seductive hum. "I can fuck you raw--" He forces your legs apart, and you hiss at the drag of denim against your dick--but just as soon his hands gentle, sliding up your thighs, and he nuzzles at your ear. "Or if you have such a crush on me, I can go real slow, touch you every way you've dreamt I would, make love to you 'til you're full of me, you and me, the only two people in the world in that moment."

"Cliché bullshit," you grumble, taking advantage of the few words you have left. The truth is, you're shaking. You know he can feel it, just as you can feel him smile against your jaw. Your cock really is stirring now--you're losing rapidly. He kisses a sideburn, the first time Josh has ever kissed you, God dammit Julian don't think things like that. He slides his body up against yours, gently pushing you into the couch, and your dicks don't line up but God, you wish they would. You hate yourself so much.

"Or do you want to fuck me, Keller?" Josh whispers, looking up at you through white eyelashes. "We could do that too--we have all the time in the world--and I'd beg for you, real sweet, promise I would." It would be almost too merciful if you couldn't focus on his words, distracted by the soft undulating motion of his body, but your brain finds it quite easy to keep track of both.

"Would you?" you ask. You had intended to sound scornful, to imply that you doubt this asshole has ever been 'real sweet' in his life, but it comes out twisted with longing. Maybe the time to trust your voice has passed.

"Of course, Julian. I'd do anything you wanted--God, I'd want you so much--I'd be so good for you." He bites your earlobe, just hard enough that there's a pinprick of pain, and tugs. His hand goes to your hip and fucking squeezes like he's trying to bruise you. You think of him mending it, that perfect warm healing pleasure pumping from his hands into your hip, and this time fail to stifle a shudder.

"Or, of course, we could fuck right here, just my hands or my mouth on you, messy and perfect, like it's meant to be." Joshua Foley is practically moaning on your fucking neck. You want to scream because it's everything you've ever wanted. "Is that how you want it, Keller? Just me sucking you off like I worship your cock? Just this hand--" He touches your face and parts your lips with his thumb, how did the rules not forbid that because it is downright _unfair_ \--"on you? I'm told I give an amazing handjob."

He forces your mouth open with his thumb. You wish you'd had the presence of mind to bite him, but he's already pulled his hand away and is licking his fingers, slowly, making eye contact with you but with his chin tilted up just so. You go dizzy watching him suck his own digits.

He pauses, maybe waiting for a smart remark, but that didn't work out so great the last time, and you're getting a bit too fuzzy for speech anyway. "Never had anyone touch your balls, huh, Julian?" he asks, deliberately trailing saliva from his hand to his mouth. "I could do that." He almost reaches for your by now undeniable hard-on and your traitor hips twitch up toward him. But then he swipes his hand back through his hair instead, mussing it beautifully. You actually growl in frustration.

Josh laughs. "Oh, Julian," he says, all saccharine, "you really do have it bad for me." He runs his hand down your cheek and you turn away as if it doesn't feel like it belongs there. "You know what I could do, Julian? Skip all the charade. I'm so in control of my powers I could get any reaction I wanted from your body--I could make you come in your pants any time, actually, with just a touch."

"That would be so against the rules," you interject. Your voice goes gravelly in the effort to not fucking squeak.

He gets up from where he had settled on your lap onto his knees and rubs against you again--it doesn't escape you how his ass tilts up in the back. His jeans are so tight. "But wouldn't you like that, love? Wouldn't you like me to give you the best orgasm of your life just by kissing you? Of course--" He swipes back his hair to tilt his head and look charmingly into your eyes--"that would just be a primer. We'd do it properly after that."

Real talk? You don't fucking care anymore. You just want him to kiss your neck like he was, bite you just hard enough to drive you crazy like you now know he knows how to do. You grit your teeth and look away and want, want, want.

Josh laughs. "But what am I saying? I'm getting ahead of myself. First we have to undress you." He half-growls the last words, and it's a victory that you don't let out a moan hearing that in his voice.

He settles back on your lap with quite a self-satisfied look and rubs his hands over your hips again, bunches up your shirt above your jeans. You wanted to stare at a spot on the ceiling but instead you are staring at his eyes, which for once are not on yours, but intent on your waist. God.

You push the hem of your shirt down when he starts pulling it up. Josh chuckles. "Julian," he coos, "don't play hard-to-get. Be good for me."

"Bite me."

"I want to see that sexy body," he whines, and that's a ploy--nothing like the real Josh, nothing like the Josh you've always wanted. It still goes straight to your cock. Your gauntlets tighten stubbornly in your shirt.

"What about this?" Before you can stop him, he undoes the button of your jeans. You have to stop and compose yourself because your world goes white for a second. When you wrestle yourself back from the edge, he's unzipped your fly and is tugging your jeans off.

"Hey! Stop that! Fuck you!"

"Mmm, please," he purrs.

His tongue finds your neck, and it's a moment before you have the presence of mind to gasp, "Cheating."

"What, undressing you?"

"No, the tongue. It--against the rules."

"Oh, right." Josh grins on your throat. "I got too eager, I guess. I'm just excited."

Excited. Hang on--excited? You look down on a hunch, and sure enough--

"Dude, you're hard too!"

"What?" Josh pulls back so fast he nearly knocks your chin. "Shut up, no I'm not!"

"No powers!" you shout all in a mess, determined to get the words out before he can do anything. "You can't stop it if you are!"

You find out in that moment from the way he looks at you that Josh does not have a secondary mutation that includes laser vision--sorry, blasts of concussive force--or he would have manifested right then and killed you on the spot. He shifts on your lap uncomfortably, and, yep, there's no denying _that_.

"Holy shit, Foley." You laugh in disbelief. "I haven't even touched you, all it's been is you talking about fantasies that..." It hits you. "... _Your_ fantasies mayhaps?"

Josh starts to glow in his cheeks, but true to word, he doesn't use his powers to prevent it. "That's ridiculous--you've had a crush for years, I only had one night--"

"And I bet you spent all of it thinking about me, huh? What you'd say? What you'd _do_?" Oh, this is much more in your comfort zone. You can just grin and watch him lose his composure. "I _knew_ that whole spiel sounded rehearsed!"

"In your fucking DREAMS, Keller--"

"What was that one about me making you beg?"

Josh blinks twice and opens his mouth. before he can compose a response, you twist and he goes down hard on the couch under you. His eyes go wide. "Not against the rules," you remind him.

"What are you--"

"Forty-five minutes was too long, I think," you muse, tracing your wrists down his sides and back up. You feel him shiver. "Deeply unfair. The game is rigged. I think it's only fair that we add another stipulation: if you come first, I win."

"That's--I--" Josh shakes his head. "Never gonna fuckin' happen."

"What, would you bet on it? Double or nothing?"

Josh narrows his eyes. "Fine. Deal."

Maybe you should have seen it coming from that, but you find yourself wholly unprepared for what happens next. Josh grabs your ass and presses you between his hand and his own hips grinding up. He barely leaves you time to gasp before pulling you down by your shirt into a kiss.

You were already bad enough off, honestly, but this is far too much. You can hardly keep track of all the sensation at once--his hands, fierce and controlling; his tongue, maybe a bit too much of it but certainly not bad; his hips, a little out of control but still incredibly skillful. Your pants were already halfway down and you swear you can feel the texture of his jeans. Hell, you can feel his dick, Joshua Foley's dick, in real life.

Within moments he's reduced you to whimpers, past which you can hear him muttering what sounds like a fluent stream of curses. Neither of you lasts very long at all, and the sensory overload and confusion makes it difficult to determine the exact order of things. Smart money says you came first, but it seemed like a pretty close thing.

After a moment of breath-catching, Josh abruptly sits up, scrambles for his pocket, and pulls out his phone. You sit up beside him and stare at the screen; he swears as he has to redo the passcode twice with shaking hands. It unlocks, and the two of you read the timer: 46 minutes.

"You were out before that," Josh says immediately.

"You didn't do a fucking countdown timer?"

"You were definitely out before that, and also, you were out first, which was the deal."

"I don't think--hey, wait a damn second, you _kissed_ me! You kissed me, you used tongue, and you touched my dick." You tick them off on your fingers. "Those were all your rules. You broke every single one."

“What are you saying--it's a draw? We went double or nothing and it's a _draw_?”

You stare at each other, then down at yourselves.

How the fuck are you going to tell the others about this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shake Hands with Danger is a real video that they show in shop classes. It is as iconic as it is traumatizing. There's a Rifftrax of it on Youtube if you don't mind a bit of horrifying bodily injury.


End file.
